Thursday, 1 August. Reflections 74 days after my mother’s passing.
The waiting is the hardest part. Will it be today, as the rain falls upon my windscreen, and I’m hospital bound. Will it be the next day, as the sun shines brightly again and gives life to all that is green. Will the weeks drift by and sail into helpless months? Will the dead leaves fall from the trees but my mother’s heart continue to beat.
16 May 2019 and nothing is the same.
Full of questions with no answers. It was always coming but I am still in disbelief. My world has shifted and yet every day steals by as though it was the day before she died.
Who was my mother? Now I’m not really sure. A life of spirituality gave way to demons in final weeks. ‘That boy is here’. Strong drugs took him away. Did it take it all away?
I’m just so tired, exhausted every day.
Thought Space 